The Ritual
by TheScribeofSleepyHollow
Summary: Young Sarah invites a group of spellsingers-pagan ritualists-into her home. They are under the pretense of cleansing her home, but in fact they unleash a dark cloud of evil upon the peaceful town of Sleepy Hollow. Based off movie. Rated M for...stuff... Mature stuff
1. Spellsinger and the Crone

I own nothing except for the basic pretty things that have no place in the story. I'm new at this, not writing, specifically, but at writing fanfiction. Also, English is not my first language, or my second, third, fourth or fifth, so please forgive me if I spell wrong or don't use proper grammar. I hope you enjoy it.

Sarah Hampton had just moved into this little town called Sleepy Hollow. She lived in a small house on top of a tall hill, and heather and sage grew wild around her home. It was a pretty village, scenic, a farming community, but one haunted by old legends-legends she completely dismissed. On her first day in the village, while she shopped at the market, an old woman in a black shawl so old that it had greying fibers. The woman had pulled Sarah close and whispered into her ear.

'The Hessian will rise on the longest day of the year.' The crazy hag had said, before releasing Sarah so suddenly she lost her balance. Before Sarah could recover her footing, the woman had disappeared in the crowd. No one seemed to have noticed anything, but Sarah could not repress a quick glance at the forbidding forest and a chill that creeped down her spine.

Later that week, as Sarah stood at the stove mixing a delicious rabbit stew for her dinner, there came a knock at the door. Startled, for she had not been expecting visitors, Sarah set her spoon down on the well-scrubbed tabletop and wiped her hands on her apron. She quickly pulled a curtain to, so she could peek out at the unexpected caller. All she saw was a dark shoulder, and the hem of a coat that flapped in the wind. She braced her weight against the door and pulled it open. When the caller made no attempt to force the door open, she slid the door open farther. The sight of her visitor startled her immensly. She started, stepped back. He did not seem fazed by her reaction. She studied his face quickly; he was hideous. The flesh of his left cheek was missing. The skin around his eye as well was stripped away. His left ear was torn at the lobe and shredded at the top. 'My name is Grigori,' He supplied tonelessly. 'I must speak with you.'

Sarah sat in her dining room, pouring her strange visitor a cup of tea. She sat opposite him with her own steaming cup, watching his mutilated face as his cold grey eyes moved around her dining room slowly. He was dressed in black trousers, with black boots polished to a high shine. His hat rested on his knee. His torso was covered by a black overcoat. His nose was sharply hooked and slightly overlarge; his eyebrows arched fiercely. He gave the appearance of an injured bird of prey. When he spoke, his voice was thick with accent. 'I was hired by the mayor. He wishes me to perform a ritual in this household to cleanse it of its past.'

Sarah raised her eyebrows. 'I don't follow the Christian religion.' Grigori smiled humorlessly.

'Neither do I, madam. However, you will find it very hard in this town if you do not attend the church. Superstition is religion here, and vice-versa.' Grigori stood and took a bundle of official-looking papers out of his overcoat. He put it down on the table. 'Thank you very much for the tea, Miss Hampton. I should be leaving now. These documents contain the accepted date and time for the ritual, but you are free to change them according to your desire. Either myself or one of my employees will perform this ritual.' Sarah picked up the papers and shook hands with her visitor. His grip was warm and firm. He left, and sarah sat down to read the papers he had left for her.

I hope you liked it :D Rate and review for more.


	2. The Ritual And The Man

Woo! Chapter 2! My first chapter didn't make much of a ripple, so I'm coming back full steam ahead with my rockin' second chapter.

If you recognize it, I don't own it.

Foreshadowing; Grigori certainly seems strange, doesn't he?

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Sarah was outside again. She wasn't sure whether or not she liked this town or not. Suddenly, up ahead, there was a loud clanging of bells. A surge of people dressed in fine clothes marched up the road. Sarah felt like slapping herself. It was Sunday; everyone in the town went to the church on Sunday. She hurried to join the throng.

She entered the church. The air was warm and musty, and smelled of paint, sawdust and wood. The pews were simple; the windows cheap. The carved

Jesus on the carved cross looked over all. She felt as though the wooden figurine was staring at her. She swallowed and sat in a nearly-full pew, feeling like a small juvinile bird in her worn and faded cotton dress next to the silken peacock beside her, chatting animatedly to her neighbour. Sarah looked around the church and, a few pews behind and on the other side of the aisle, she spotted Grigori. She waved, glad to at least know one person's name. He nodded in return.

The chatter in the church seized as the priest stood behind the lectern. He began to read from the Bible, and Sarah allowed her mind to drift. She looked back over the people in the church, all raptly gazing at the priest. 'We must trust in God...' the priest was saying. Sarah was doing her best not to listen, but the preist had a loud, deep voice that, even though it was heard, still needed to echo in the small space. 'For it was He who protected us when...' 'The dead rose from the tombs...' 'The demonic Hessian, on his head-chopping rampage...' Sarah could no longer tune it out, she snapped to attention, and noticed from the corner of her eye that Grigori had lowered his head as though in prayer. 'The Darkness that was the Hessian, sent by the Devil to take those who did not follow the word of God to Hell. The Devil had possessed the body and mind of a woman, the Lady Van Tassel, who was weak in the word of God, and he was finally returned to rest when his head was returned to him.'

Sarah had sat through the hour and a half of church service. When it was finally over, she prepared to leave for home. She briefly saw Grigori dip a silver cup into the font of Holy Water before the tide of people pushed her away. She was halfway down the street when she saw the people were clustered along the sides of the road, not spread all over it as they usually were. She looked for the cause.

A long procession of people, led by Grigori, were walking down the street. There was some twenty people behind him, all holding long sticks with a cross on top. He held the silver chalice in one hand and, in the other, perched a dove. The dove sat serenely and cooed at the watching people. 'What is this?' Sarah asked the woman beside her. 'It's the cleansing. Grigori Konstantin, that's the man in front, he's some Spirit-talker. The mayor employed him to bring spiritual solace to the people. The folks behind him are his followers. A cult of the dirty-' She broke off, for Grigori passed by her, and the dove turned its head to gaze back at Sarah and her companion, its coos almost seeming accusing.

(those things that indicate a change of place and time)

Sarah was at home. The Sunday had passed-it was now a bright and sunny Monday. From the date on the sheet of paper Grigori had left her, the ritual to cleanse her house was to take place today. She sipped her tea. At around quarter past twelve, there was a knock. Sarah opened it to reveal a tall, strong looking woman with heavy eyelids and pronounced cheekbones. 'I am the one who will preform your ritual.' The woman said. Her voice lilted, as though she was a singer. 'Master Konstantin sent me.' She finished. She carried with her a bag, embroidered with a silver sickle, and a piece of paper, which she handed to Sarah. 'This is what the ritual will entail. Master Konstantin wrote the procedure himself. It is best for the energy of the ritual that you are not here when it is preformed, and so Master Konstantin has arranged a wagon to take you away and back here after the ritual is completed. It's just outside.' Sarah bit her lip as she went outside to the wagon. The driver was tall, broadshouldered and handsome. He helped her into the wagon and then drove off, taking her away.

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Second chapter! completed! Rate and review for more! Thank you for reading, and if you sneezed while reading, bless you.


	3. The Carriage Ride

Hey guys! I am sosososososo sorry it took me so long to update this but things came up and my laptop exploded and it was all a load of UGH! But here I am with a proud chapter four! Please note I own nothing of this story except characters you don't recognize!

The carriage ride took her though some gorgeous country, away from the town. She opened the sliding panel and asked for the destination. 'We're headed for Master Konstantin's home, Miss Hampton. If there is anything you need, please ask. I am under command from Master Konstantin to provide you with any comfort you require.'

Sarah smiled at the man. 'Thank you,' she said, and she closed the sliding panel and sat back to enjoy her ride. The carriage began to slope uphill. From the window, she saw the vast golden fields, the small town, and the forest's edge.

Forty minutes later they arrived at Konstantin's home. It was large, three stories tall, and there was an imposing wrought iron fence around the perimeter. The porch was half the size as the front door. All windows were barred, and the door appeared to be made of iron. The iron door opened and Grigori himself stepped from the shadowy interior.

The door of the carriage was opened by the driver and she stepped down with his assistance. Grigori walked up to them. 'Did Dorlis arrive safely?' He asked of the driver after shaking Sarah's hand and lifting her bag from the top of the carriage. 'Dorlis… I was supposed to take Dorlis?' The carriageman stuttered. Grigori's face was expressionless as he offered Sarah his arm. 'Please, Miss Hampton, follow me. I will take you inside, and you may make yourself comfortable while the ritual is finished.'

She took his arm and walked through the gate with him. 'Did you have a pleasant trip, Miss Hampton?'

She nodded. 'Yes, very. The scenery is beautiful this time of year.'

'Have you seen the landscape covered in snow yet? It is most incredible.' He offered her a grizzly smile. 'Please, make yourself at home. I have things to discuss with your driver. Leave the door open, we only close it at night.' He helped her onto the porch and held the door open for her. She made her way into a comfortable parlor and sat down, resting her bag at her feet. The chairs and tables were made of mahogany and a pair of swords hung above a mantel. In the fireplace, a raging fire roared its flickering welcome. The floorboards were scrubbed and the air smelled of lavender.

About fifteen minutes after she had sat down, Grigori entered the parlor and offered her a drink or something to eat. She requested some tea and listened to him moving about the kitchen as he made her beverage. 'Was there a problem with the carriage?' She asked as he handed her a steaming cup on a tea-plate. 'No… no problem with the carriage, Miss Hampton… just a mixup.' She put down her cup and her brows knitted in concern. 'A mixup?'

'Yes… you see, the wrong person went to do your ritual. It was scheduled for Dorlis to do it but no one has seen him since the driver stopped to water the horses half-way to town. Had Morgana not shown up, we'd have to have done the ritual another day…' Grigori appeared lost in thought. He wore a grey sweater today, over his hardy cotton pants. His hands were clean and immaculate. She found herself admiring his long, elegant fingers. His skin was the shade of porcelain. His frame was thin, she saw, but she sensed he was in perfect shape-pure muscle. Overall an attractive man if one could forgive the horrible disfigurement.

'What happened? With your face I mean… Oh, I… I'm sorry.' He seemed to pull himself back to reality and he cleared his throat. 'It is a long story. One of my… associates have never seen eye to eye…' Grigori chuckled to himself before finishing, 'Anyway, he and I had a disagreement and he took a bit off the side is all.' She studied the wound.

'Does it hurt at all?' She asked. He shook his head.

'The blade was very hot. The wound cauterized almost immediately. And it's nothing now, just another battle-wound to brag about at the tavern.'

She liked his brassy temperament. Most men treated her as though she'd break if they breathed on her. Grigori was delightfully rough while still being tactful and polite. The sun slowly began to set when a man burst into the room, throwing himself at Grigori's feet. His hands were covered in blood and he was weeping uncontrollably. 'I… sir, I swear I had nothing to do with it… I found Dorlis… sir, he's dead! His head was cut off!' Sarah dropped her tea-cup and the sound of breaking china alerted the man. 'Oh… I didn't know you had a guest…' the panicky man with bloody hands whimpered.

'Please, Hawk. Wait for me in my office, understand. Take a drink from the brandy to calm yourself and wash your hands. Everything will be fine.' The man, Hawk, disappeared up the stairs. Grigori stood and knelt at Sarah's feet to pick up the shards of china. She was terrified. 'Grigori, what… what happened?' Grigori shook his head and sighed. 'I do not know, Miss Hampton. It is a grave loss. Dorlis was among the best men I ever had the pleasure to work with but… it doesn't matter. Please, allow me to speak to Hawk and then I will take you back to your home personally.' She briefly clasped his fine, gentlemanly hand and released him, and then he was gone up the stairs. Sarah was lost, unable to think. She waited in silence with only the fire to speak to.


	4. Return Home

**Thanks for being so patient guys! Here's Chapter four!**

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Well, from bad to worse? A maimed body, and a mysterious mix-up… what shall the next chapter entail for our young heroine?

Sarah waited a mere fifteen minutes before Grigori came back down the stairs. His face was bent in a thoughtful frown. He looked up at her and offered a reassuring smile.

'Please, forgive me, Miss Hampton. This is not at all a normal occurrence.' He offered her his arm and she took it, smiling softly. 'I assure you, Mr. Konstantin… I understand.' She felt an urge to tell Konstantin about the woman in the black shawl. 'But… there's something I must ask you about'. Grigori nodded as he led her out the door and shut it securely. There was a chill, and he promptly offered her his coat. She let him slip it over her shoulders as she continued. 'When I was in the market the other day, a woman approached me. She mentioned the Hessian and how he would rise on the longest day of the year…' Grigori opened the door to the carriage for her, and she climbed inside. There was silence as he crossed around to the other side, and until he sat down in the seat next to her and closed his door securely. 'Tell me what this woman looked like?' He asked at last. She described the woman-tatty, greying shawl, greyish white hair done back in a bun. He nodded as she finished. 'That… is a concern.' He said at last, leaning back in his seat as the carriage began to move.

'Am I in danger?' She asked darkly, remembering the stories of the Hessian she had heard and dismissed. 'I do not know how to answer that, Miss Hampton. Should this… woman… be honest, it will all depend on whether our dear Hessian has his own head. Fear not, Miss Hampton, all will be sorted. I promise you.'

They rode the rest of the way in silence, but Sarah clasped his hand in hers and held it tightly. He was her only friend in the whole village, she thought, as they rode in silence, side by side. I wonder if he knows that he is the person I trust most out of an entire village. More than the priest, or the mayor… She wondered if he also thought of her as a friend. Out of the blue and without thinking, she asked, 'Are you married?' The shadow that came over his face told her all she needed to know.

'I was, once, but she was taken from me long ago.' He said no more. The carriage stopped and she heard a low curse from the driver. She opened the door… her home was burned to ashes! She clasped a hand to her mouth and Grigori opened his door and quickly ran to the smoldering pile of what was once her home. A charred body lay, surrounded by a hastily drawn chalk circle, and nearby, the remains of what was once a bag that bore a silver sickle.

Grigori knelt by the ashes, staring at the body, his chin in his hand. He frowned as he picked up a piece of blackened, charred wood. Sarah stood beside him, hand on his shoulder. He rose, and looked towards the forest, standing quietly, so black it made the starry night pale in comparison.

What evils are out there, Sarah thought, as Grigori stood beside her, a hand resting comfortingly on her shoulder. What evils were summoned the day the woman took hold of me? And how many lives have they taken?

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**Ooooo, spooky. Rate and review to speed me up to the land of Chapter five!**


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